


i'll carry you through

by Lissy



Series: The Mistress of Death [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Female Harry Potter, Hari is the Mistress of Death, Hari takes care of Naruto, Humor, M/M, Post-Deathly Hallows, Pre-Naruto Canon Era, Rating may go up, future Uchiha Sasuke/Uzumaki Naruto, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-08-08 17:02:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16433369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lissy/pseuds/Lissy
Summary: "Now, after all of the blood, sweat, and tears she’s shed, after she dies to protect this fucking village, they repay her sacrifice by damning her legacy."Kushina is not pleased with Naruto's treatment in the village, and enlists the help of the Mistress of Death.Hari plans on making sure Naruto is treated well. She doesn't plan on growing attached to his ANBU guard, Inu, as well.





	1. a mother's love

**Author's Note:**

> Should I be working on a new story when I have others that are unfinished? No.
> 
> Did that stop me? Clearly not.
> 
> Please let me know what you think! This idea first came to me a year ago, and it sat in my computer with only 200 words before I found it again today and busted out this bad boy.
> 
> Updates will be sporadic as I try to finish my Boku no Hero Academia fic, _through all the hard times_.
> 
> **The rating may go up, but I haven't decided yet.**

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kushina mourns, briefly, as her rose-tinted glasses are shattered, and she's left with the jagged, broken pieces of reality.
> 
> And then, like any adaptable shinobi, Kushina picks herself up, brushes the dust off, and searches for a way to protect her son.

Uzumaki Kushina hates Konoha.

It's not something she ever thought would happen, and it certainly isn't something she planned. With the destruction of Uzushio, Konoha has become her home. It is vastly different from her native land, the smell of freshly cut grass instead of salt water lingering and dancing in the wind. And, sure, her arrival is solely due to Mito-sama passing her the Kyuubi in the necessary and never-ending game of Jinchuuriki Tag, but Kushina knows the only thing she can do is keep moving forward.

Like any shinobi, Kushina is adaptable. She becomes one of Konoha's most formidable kunoichi, absolutely ruthless on the battlefield, and if Kumo and Iwa shinobi are absolutely terrified to catch a glimpse of her blood red hair, well… she has no problem slaughtering them with  _extreme_  prejudice. The Third War allows her to use her chakra chains in so many different, creative ways.

The war also brings out a terrifying, bloodthirsty side of her, but that's beside the point.

She grows to love Konoha; loves the Hokage monument, the belief in the Will of Fire, the people who welcome her with open arms ( _Minato_ ). Uzushio is, and forever will be, a gaping wound that will never fully heal, but Konoha is a balm to soothe the agony over a legacy left decrepit.

Or, it was.

Now, after all of the blood, sweat, and tears she's shed, after she dies to protect this fucking village, they repay her sacrifice by damning her legacy.

Naruto is the best of both of his parents, with his father's loud blond hair and bright blue eyes, with her tanned skin and boisterous attitude. He's the best thing that could have happened to her, a product of the love and joy she shares with her husband.

Dying to protect him is as easy as breathing, instinctual, and she does so without many regrets, will do it all again if she needs to. It's the leaving him behind that despairs her, damages her soul is ways she never anticipated.

Because Uzumaki Kushina may be dead, but she is not gone. Oh, no. She lingers, keeps watch over her son but is never able to touch him, to speak to him, to comfort him.

It's not so bad at first. Kushina sings old Uzushio lullabies to her bundle of joy, not sure if it's for his deaf ears or her wounded spirit. She tells him about the sea, about the crystal blue water, about the bright coral reef and the swimming creatures that hide in the crevices, about the sand that she could squish between her toes.

She tells him about his grandfather, a stubborn man with a heart of gold who she hopes he will take after. Kushina tells him of the time Minato had rescued her, of the times he's stood by her regardless of how hard she made it, too wounded and scared to go through the pain of losing anyone else to just let him waltz his way into her heart.

Naruto remains unaware of it all, stares aimlessly at the stuffed kunai hanging from his mobile, or sometimes sleeping peacefully, ignorant of her ghostly presence.

But that's okay because he's here, alive,  _healthy_ , and Kushina has never felt so  _blessed_.

Naruto's caretaker, a middle-aged seamstress with deep worry lines but a kind face, is a little indifferent to him. Kushina hates it, because her son deserves so much more effort than this woman is giving, but she tries to be compassionate, especially when she sees the woman weeping over a photo of her husband, tragically killed when the Kyuubi broke free.

Kushina knows more than anyone that grief can get in the way of living.

Understanding is not the same as acceptance, but Kushina is more willing to give the woman the benefit of the doubt.

Until the woman's slight indifference turns to outright neglect.

Naruto wails every time he's left in his soaking, soiled diapers, howls every time he's left alone for hours, cries when his caretaker handles him just a little too rough.

Kushina had died painfully, blood filling her lungs, chest burst open from the Kyuubi's claw, and yet that doesn't hold a candle to this new torment. To see her son in pain and not able to do anything about it is excruciating, salt in an already festering wound.

Kushina does what she can; she screams, she rages, tries to get the woman's attention one way or another.

Nothing works, and for the first time Kushina curses Konoha, hates the village with everything she has because it  _wasn't supposed to be like this_.

It's not the fact that she's dead that bothers her, knew from the moment she accepted that headband that this fate was going to be hers and no self-respecting shinobi would have it any other way.

But her son is important to her, and she had no idea that sacrificing herself for this village, for  _him_ , was going to sacrifice his wellbeing and happiness, too.

Kushina doesn't know why it takes Sarutobi four months to notice Naruto's worsening condition, wants to beat some sense into his old, withered head. The old man has always been soft to a fault, something she used to admire in him, but now she understands with perfect clarity why Danzo always cursed that quality in him. Naruto's old caretaker is replaced quietly, no punishment doled out, just transferring her son to someone he personally trusts.

It's not enough, not by a long shot.

It will never be enough.

Kushina watches the new caretaker like a hawk; the new woman is a little younger, and she doesn't neglect Naruto. She holds him gingerly, scrunches her nose as if he is contaminated, and sometimes she looks scared to be in the same room with him. But her fear of disobeying the Hokage is greater, and so she does her utmost to ensure that he is treated appropriately.

The woman even takes him outside while she's running errands, and Naruto marvels at the breeze ruffling his golden locks, the sun warming his face, the sights and smells emanating from the village, slowly recovering from where the Kyuubi brought it to its knees.

ANBU trail after them, unseen, a precaution she approves of because she no longer trusts this detestable village.

Kushina cries when Naruto smiles for the first time, and she doesn't understand how anyone could think poorly of her son, her precious baby boy, how they can't see how wonderful he is.

But the villagers do not get the memo.

Enraged is too soft a word to fully describe what she feels with every sneer, every cruel whisper that follows Naruto. The villagers spew their vicious vitriol, unaware that her son is the  _only_  reason the village is still standing in the first place.

 _This_  is the village she died for?

The village she and Minato  _sacrificed their son_  for?

Kushina weeps bitter tears, wants nothing more than to pay back Konoha's injustice ten-fold.

Because the people that welcomed her with open arms when she needed it have closed them to Naruto.

The baker that used to sell her Minato's favorite rolls? He drunkenly suggests that someone needs to kill the demon brat before he completely destroys the village.

The kind old lady that used to remind her of her grandmother and would invite her to tea? She curses his name for killing her son.

The shinobi she used to fight with, her comrades-in-arms, they either turn the other way or are indifferent to her son's treatment, his status as a pariah.

And that is unacceptable.

Naruto will never thrive in a village like this.

Kushina mourns, briefly, as her rose-tinted glasses are shattered, and she's left with the jagged, broken pieces of reality.

And then, like any adaptable shinobi, Kushina picks herself up, brushes the dust off, and searches for a way to protect her son. She refuses to believe that she is powerless, won't accept it.

She's a fucking ghost; there must be something that she can do.

Kushina tries everything she can think of for  _months_. What she comes up with is a long list of all the shit she can't do.

Useful in its own way, but ultimately not what she's looking for.

Naruto celebrates his first birthday,  _alone_ , when she finally has a breakthrough.

Hand signs no longer work for her now that she's dead, but channeling chakra, specifically channeling a combination of earth chakra and the unique chakra that makes up her chains, that seems to do the trick.

Kushina was limited to only staying within a certain distance from Naruto, but then it feels like there's a hook at her navel, and before she can contemplate that even further she is whisked away.

The world passes by at an alarming speed, a myriad of colors that whirl around her and make her dizzy, heading straight for a vortex of swirling and colliding energy. The vortex promptly sucks her up and spits her back out, and she lands on the hard floor, as shaky as a Nara's baby deer.

Kushina pants heavily, closes her eyes to get rid of the nausea that is threatening to overcome her. She hasn't exactly eaten these past few months, and she doesn't know what will come up if her innards are successful in their rebellion.

"Can I help you?"

Kushina gasps, not expecting anyone to be able to talk with her. It's been  _so long_  since she's had anyone to talk to. She turns to see an older man staring at her expectantly. He is sitting behind a rich mahogany desk, devoid of anything besides a plain manila folder that is under his folded hands. He looks foreign, not as wrinkled as Sarutobi, has a full head of brown hair that is slicked back, starting to recede. His voice is foreign as well with an accent she's never heard before. The man is dressed oddly, formally, in black clothes that she has never seen before.

"Uh," she says, because grace is something she was not born with, "where am I?"

The old man continues to stare at her, blank and unimpressed. "Have you forgotten everything from your orientation?"

"Orientation?" she asks weakly, feels so out of place and a little on edge.

He narrows his eyes at her. "Have a seat," he says, gesturing to an empty spot in front of his desk.

She blinks, and an intricately carved chair appears. She stares at it for a moment but decides it's not the weirdest thing she's seen. Kushina gets off the floor, dusts herself off, and takes a seat.

"I don't know what's going on," she admits.

"Yes, I'm beginning to see that," he says dryly. He opens the manila folder, scans the contents with a furrow in his brow. "Did you not attend your orientation on the twelfth of October?"

"You are the first person I've talked to in months," she says with a twinge of longing. "I haven't been able to do much of anything."

He cocks an eyebrow at her. "Then how did you end up here?"

She shrugs hesitantly. "Chakra?" She didn't mean it as a question, but her uncertainty colors her voice.

The old man's face lights up a little in understanding. "Elemental nations," he says as if that explains everything.

"Yes?" She's obviously from the Elemental nations, but isn't everybody? What kind of crazy fuckery did she chakra her way into?

The old man clears his throat, puts down the folder. Kushina's trained eyes catch sight of small, squiggly words, and she mentally curses the man for writing in code instead of kanji. "I see you've had quite an epidemic just a few months ago," he says factually, as if he's talking about the weather. "It looks like a…giant demon fox, what you call the Kyuubi, was unleashed upon your village?"

"Yes," she says, even though this is already old news and not a secret kept from the rest of the nations. "My…my husband and I died to protect our son…and the  _village_ ," she adds on, and if she bitterly spits out 'village' like a curse, nobody can blame her.

"I see that." He sighs, stares at the folder again before returning his gaze to her. "Well, I believe it is safe to say that you did  _not_  receive your proper orientation, and  _someone_  has been derelict in their duties."

Kushina frowns. "I guess," she says. "Look, I was just trying to—"

The old man clears his throat, interrupting her. "You are dead," he deadpans. "Take a moment to come to terms with it, let it sink in." And then the bastard doesn't even give her a moment, continues, "Now that you are dead, you have a couple of options ahead of you. You can be judged and placed in an appropriate afterlife now, or you can continue to linger on the mortal plane to watch over whatever unfinished business you feel you have. What will it be?"

Kushina stares at him, narrows her eyes. "I need help," she says, anger and desperation evident in her tone. "Please, I don't know what to do!"

"It sounds like you're going to want to go with option two," the old man says contemplatively. He grabs a pen, starts scribbling notes down in his file. He doesn't even flinch when Kushina slams her hands on the table.

"I died for them!" she screams. "I died for them, and the only thing I want is my son to be cared for! But that fucking village is blaming him for the fox, and i-it's partly my fault. The fox…it was  _my_  burden to carry." She cries, shakes as sobs wrack her body. "But I was t-too  _weak_  to stop the masked man, and he took the fox from me. Minato didn't have any other choice. And now our son is paying the price…"

The old man's eyes narrowed sharply. "I'm going to ignore this outburst from you," he says lightly, but there's something sharp in his eyes that Kushina recognizes all too well, and she knows that provoking this man is probably the last thing she wants to do. He leans back in his chair, regards her with cold, curious eyes, like she's an interesting specimen. "Minato," he says thoughtfully, glances at the file again. "Your Hokage who traded his life to seal the fox into…your son?"

"Our son," Kushina says softly, tears still running down her face.

The old man makes a small noise of acknowledgement. He stares at her sharply. "What is it that you want help with?"

Kushina sniffles, wipes away her tears. "The village isn't treating Naruto well," she says. "We died for them, and all we wanted was our son to grow up healthy and happy, but…I've spent the last few months watching, and they're…they blame him for the Kyuubi. It's not his fault, but they're blaming him, and he is the reason why the village still stands today, maybe even the only hope for the  _world_. I need…I  _need_  to protect him. Please, I don't know what else to do."

The old man says nothing, regards her with a calculating gleam in his eye. An awkward silence descends upon them for a few moments, makes Kushina fidget in her seat, and then the old man waves a hand.

In a cloud of black smoke, a man appears. He has dark, chocolate skin, warm brown eyes. He's dressed in that similar foreign, oddly formal wear that the old man is.

"What can I do for you, Death?"

Kushina damn near swallows her tongue, pales a little when she realizes she was probably talking to DEATH this whole time, slammed her hands on his fucking table, and was it possible to die again? It can't be, right?

"Inform my mistress I have need of her," Death says quietly.

The other man nods. "It shall be done," he promises, and then leaves in the same manner he arrived.

Death waves his hand again, and this time a plate of dango appears before Kushina. "Eat," he says.

She has no need for food, but she doesn't dare go against Death. She bites into the dango, surprised by just how much she's missed it. A soft sigh of pleasure escapes her, and Kushina happily munches.

It's not a particularly long wait, but then again time means nothing to the dead. Death does not engage her in conversation, and Kushina doesn't particularly feel like filling in the silence like she normally does. Instead she thinks of Minato, feels a deep sadness. The last time she saw him was the night of their deaths, not exactly something that she likes to think about.

And maybe it's a good thing he's not here. She doesn't know how he would feel about the village, about the way they're treating Naruto. Kushina imagines he would be saddened, bitterly disappointed, or maybe even a little angry. She knows their son is important to him, that he loved Naruto as fiercely as she does, but she's lying if she says she's not the slightest bit concerned that his love for the village would overshadow that, would make him forgive the transgressions against their child.

There's another cloud of smoke, but the figure that appears in it is not the dark-skinned man from before.

It's another woman. Her long, inky black hair is tied in a high ponytail, bangs stopping just above her eyebrows. She's pale, almost unnaturally so, with high cheekbones, almond-shaped green eyes that are brighter than her own, full lips that are colored scarlet, bloody red. Her clothes are not that unusual, resembling the Hokage robes, but cut in a way that emphasizes the way her waist tucks in and her hips flare out, black with red and gold accents.

It's the shoes that really stand out to Kushina; close-toed, black with a slight platform, silver buckles crisscrossing. They make a dense  _tap tap_  as she walks, a noise Kushina recognizes—the shoes are heavier in the front, likely reinforced with metal.

Stylish, yet functional.

The woman doesn't look like a kunoichi, but Kushina knows that appearances can be deceiving. It's how she killed most of her marks as a chunin, after all.

"You needed me?" Her voice is a little on the husky side with an accent like Death's.

Death stands up, bows a little. "Mistress," he intones, and Kushina might be imagining it, but he sounds like an odd mix of mocking and respectful.

The woman gives him a bland look. Then she notices Kushina in the room, and her eyes widen a little. She stares at Kushina, so much shock and amazement and longing on her face that Kushina feels a little uncomfortable before she settles into a composed expression.

"And you are?" the woman inquires.

"Oh, uh, Uzumaki Kushina," she says, hesitantly reaches out a hand for the other woman to shake, unsure if it would be welcome.

Her worries are for naught, however, when the woman accepts her hand, shakes it firmly. "Hari," the woman says, staring into Kushina's eyes. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to be rude, it's just…you look  _remarkably_  like my mother."

"Oh!" Kushina's eyes widen, and then she laughs, loud and awkward. "Sorry, I only have one child. A little boy, his name is Naruto."

Hari smiles. She turns to Death, cocks an eyebrow at him. "You needed me?" she repeats.

Death nods his head, hands her the file from his desk. "She didn't get her orientation," he explains. "And yet Reginald signed it off on the twelfth of October stating she did."

Hari's eyes scan the file. "I highly doubt you called me for reapers falsifying documentation," she says dryly.

Death hovers over her shoulder, points at a certain spot on the file. "This case is, perhaps, one he should not have lied about," he replies blithely.

Hari's eyes widen as she reads, flutters back and forth between the file and Kushina, not unlike Death had.

It makes Kushina nervous.

"Is something wrong?" she asks loudly, her voice high as she fidgets with her hands.

Hari snaps the file closed and puts it on the desk. "Your son, Naruto, is a Child of Prophecy?" she inquires quietly, an almost tender, sympathetic look on her face.

"Potentially," Kushina says just as quietly. "It could have been my husband, Minato, but…well, he died with me. We were…we were protecting our son."

Hari looks like she just took a hit to the face. "I'm sorry," she says earnestly, genuinely.

Kushina studies her. She doesn't just look sympathetic, doesn't look like she's offering perfunctory condolences. No, she looks like she has true understanding, the kind of intimate knowledge that only comes with experience. "Thank you," she says, bows slightly.

"It seems their village has not been treating her son with the decency that he deserves," Death says smoothly. "Now where have I heard of that story before?"

Hari looks at him sharply, her eyes narrowed in a glare. She doesn't hold it for long, maybe a few moments, but then it dissipates, melting faster than ice on a hot sidewalk. "Why is it always a prophecy?"

Kushina swallows thickly. "My son," she says, licks her suddenly dry and chapped lips, "he means everything to me. Minato and I, we died for him, for the village. And they spit on our sacrifice every time they glare at him, every time they suggest he be put down like an animal, and  _I can't take it_." She hisses out the last few words, angry and furious and betrayed, because she fucking loved that damn village, sacrificed everything for it. "I don't know what to do, but I can't do nothing. I can't let my son grow up thinking he was unwanted, unloved, worthless. I just can't!"

Hari swallows just as thickly, sighs softly. She runs her hands through her ponytail, tugs on it a little as she digests Kushina's words. With a wave of her hand, a chair pops into existence and she sits down in it, crosses her legs, props her elbow on the armrest, and rests her chin on her fist.

"What a shit show," she muses.

"Please," Kushina begs. Pride means nothing to her where Naruto is concerned, nothing at all. "Please, there must be something that can be done."

Hari regards her carefully, purses her lips in consideration. Her eyes flutter over to Death who is watching with a knowing glint in his eyes. She drums her fingers lightly against her chin.

"I suppose it can't be helped," she says, stands up and claps her hands.

"Wait," Kushina cries, feels the panic clawing at her insides. No, she can't just…just look at her plight and deem it helpless! She just can't!

"I'll go to your village myself," Hari says, snaps her fingers. The file on the desk opens on its own, and a quill whizzes across the room and starts jotting notes in that squiggly code that Kushina can't read. "Death, you will be in charge of handling the reapers and making sure everything goes smoothly."

"Nothing I am unused to," Death agrees, smooths non-existent wrinkles out of his clothes.

"I…I don't understand?" Kushina looks between the two of them, a hesitant, small flame of hope starting to burn inside her. "You'll help?"

Hari walks to her, grabs her hands. "I'll help," she says softly.

Kushina breaks down, sagging in relief. "Thank you," she cries. "Thank you so, so much! I can't…I don't know how to repay you!"

Hari reaches up to brush away a few of the redhead's tears. "I was a Child of Prophecy," she admits quietly. "And I grew up feeling unwanted, unloved, and worthless. I cannot, in good conscious, stand back and do nothing while someone else goes through the same thing."

Kushina envelopes Hari in a hug, squeezes as hard as she can and cries into Hari's neck. She is relieved beyond words, doesn't know how but feels just so sure that she can trust Hari.

Hari doesn't complain, pets Kushina's long red hair. "It'll be okay," she whispers. "I'll find your son, and I'll make sure he is treated well. You have my word."

For the first time in months, Kushina feels like everything is going to be alright, like things are going to turn around for the better.

"I will make all of the necessary arrangements, Mistress," Death says.

Kushina pulls away from the embrace, quietly apologizes and wipes her eyes. "Mistress?" she questions.

Death smiles at her, a hollow smile with sharp teeth and mischievous eyes. "Oh? You didn't know?" He gestures at Hari, says, "This is Hari Potter, the Mistress of Death."

Kushina just…sobbed over the Mistress of Death. She turns to Hari, mortified, and stammers out another apology.

Hari waves her off, uncaring and grins. "Never mind that," she says. "I have some preparing to do if I'm going to go to the Elemental nations, and you have a son to watch over. Now, keep in mind, time runs differently here than in your village, so don't be alarmed if your son is a little older now."

And before Kushina can even say anything, the Mistress of Death snaps her fingers, and Kushina is whisked back to Konoha in the blink of an eye.


	2. away from all of this

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Naruto isn't the only one that gasps. "Me?" he whispers, blinking in disbelief.
> 
> Hari nods. " _You_ ," she says. "I want to give you a home. Away from... from all of this. Is that okay with you?"

Naruto rubs his aching knuckles, desperately trying to keep the tears at bay. His room is small and dark, cramped, and it feels like the walls are closing in. He didn't mean to make the matron mad at him, but that doesn't matter.

It never matters.

The fact is, Naruto is a burden. The matron says so herself, always with this look in her eye that makes him feel like he's something unpleasant that she stepped in. Everyone looks at him like this, and he doesn't know why.

The workers at the orphanage says it's because he's too loud. They sneer, smack his head to make him quiet.

The other kids call him demon, monster, and they look down on him, ignore him, won't let him play with them.

He clutches his grumbling stomach tightly.

He'd just wanted something to eat. The matron forgot to feed him again, and not for the first time, and the smells coming from the kitchen had just been too much for him to resist. He wasn't trying to steal food from other people's mouths, honest! It's just... doesn't he deserve to eat, too?

The matron wouldn't listen to him, though ( _she never does_ ), and made him hold his hand out as she brought the ruler down sixty-nine times – one for every person he tried to cheat out of a meal.

His knuckles are still smarting from the punishment. They bled, at first, but now the skin is healed over, pink, and it doesn't hurt to wiggle his fingers anymore.

Naruto hugs his knees to his chest, glares at a spider that makes its way across the old, wooden floorboards of the broom closet that now makes up his room. He can hear the other orphans chattering as they play, satisfied after a good breakfast.

His nails dig into his knees. He doesn't know why he's different from the other orphans or why he's the only one always in trouble. Haru is mean, likes to pull on the girls' pigtails, and all he gets for a punishment is sitting in the corner! Naruto breathes wrong and the matron has her way with the ruler, bringing it down on his hand hard enough that she actually broke it one time.

He tries to be good, he really does. It's hard to concentrate in school, but that's because teachers never pay attention to him and the history stuff is so  _boring_. Naruto doesn't care about any of that. He doesn't care when the village was founded, or what the original clans were, or even why the shinobi council and civilian council work together.

He's not old enough yet, but what he  _really_  wants is to be a shinobi.

He watches them sometimes, staring out the window as they walk up walls and hop the rooftops. They keep the village safe, his teachers say, and are highly respected in the village, with the Hokage being at the very top.

And Naruto wants to be talked about like that.

He wants people to acknowledge him, to see that he's not a burden.

He wants to see those warm, caring gazes directed at  _him_.

Maybe... maybe if he's a ninja, people would stop being so mean.

The door to his bedroom opens abruptly, and he flinches as light pours in. The matron is an imposing figure, an older woman with soft, curly black hair just starting to grey at the roots. She's always frowning at him, always staring at him with cold, beady eyes that make him squirm.

"We have a visitor today," she informs him in her typical monotonous tone.

Naruto hates it when people come to the orphanage. He doesn't understand why he can't just stay in his room when nobody's ever been interested in taking him home, anyways.

The matron makes them all put on their best clothes. "Dress to impress," she says with a soft smile as she looks at all of the other orphans.

Naruto never gets those smiles.

His best clothes are also becoming threadbare. Unlike the other orphans, he's only allowed three outfits, and it doesn't matter if they get ripped or stained because his clothes are never replaced until they absolutely need to be. As a result, he always looks frumpier than the other kids.

Any time there are visitors, they have to stay in the main room. There are three large bookcases that cover an entire wall, full of both scrolls and bound books, with two bean-bag chairs that Naruto isn't allowed to sit in. There's a long rectangular table with several baskets of paper and crayons running down the entire length of it, and Naruto grabs a sheet and a handful of crayons before retreating to a corner.

He doesn't pay attention to visitors anymore, not when each and every one of them look at him the same way the matron does.

Instead, he draws himself older, stronger, a Konoha headband proudly resting upon his crown of golden hair, adoring fans in the background.

He doesn't think it's a silly dream to have, and not even Haru can dissuade him of it.

Someday, he'll be big and strong and people won't look at him so coldly.

Someday, he'll earn respect, and maybe even find a family.

Someday...

There are footsteps approaching him, but he ignores it, just keeps drawing his picture, hopes that he'll get to keep this one instead of the matron ripping it up and tossing the pieces in the trash.

"That's a nice picture you're drawing."

Naruto freezes, hesitantly looks up.

His first thought is that she's not talking to him. But his back is against the wall, so she's not talking to anyone behind him, and a quick glance to each side shows that the other kids have maintained their standard distance away from him.

His second thought is that she's not from around here. Her eyes are different, not slanted like everyone else's, but they're a pretty green, and they're warm. She's a little pale, but not as pale as some of the clanspeople that he's seen outside his window, and her long black hair is pulled into a ponytail that looks nice. She's wearing a bright red t-shirt and black shorts.

His final thought is that she's weird. From her exotic features to the way she talks. But the weirdest thing about her? She's smiling at him. Not those mean smiles when he says something stupid or does something wrong, but it's the kind of smile that makes his stomach do weird twists and flops. The kind of smile that he's seen the matron give other kids, the kind of smile some of his classmates have gotten from adults.

"Huh?" he blurts out, confused.

She smiles at him, points at his drawing. "That looks really good," she says.

Naruto's cheeks turn pink, and he swallows thickly. Her voice is different, and she pronounces words a little funny, almost like he does, but she sounds so warm, and so nice.

"Thank...you...?" He looks around, and he's not the only one baffled at this turn of events. The other orphans are shocked, upset, because  _they're_  the ones that are supposed to be getting attention, not him. Never him.

The woman reaches her hand up, and it's almost instinct for him to flinch, expecting a slap, but instead, she ruffles his hair,  _gently_ , and Naruto is so overwhelmed that he thinks he might actually cry. "Do you like to draw a lot?"

He shrugs, because he doesn't know what it's like to do anything else. He's not normally allowed. He eyes her a little warily, but he can't stop that feeling of hope, because nobody's ever been so nice to him.

Kindness is a luxury that Naruto is never able to afford.

But this woman, she's looking at him, and she for whatever reason, she doesn't see a burden, a monster, and he wonders if this is what it's like for normal kids.

Her eyes wander down to his hands, and she frowns. "Did you get hurt?"

The matron's voice cuts through, saying, "This one is a troublemaker, Hari-san. He's always starting fights, stealing, picking on other kids."

Naruto's stomach growls again, but it's got nothing on the ache in his chest.

Because he's not like that. He doesn't steal, and he's never started any fights, and he doesn't pick on the other kids. Naruto does his best to be small and stay out of the way, to not elicit the matron's anger.

His world crumbles as he watches the woman's face change. She doesn't look as nice or kind anymore; her lips are tugged downwards, her brows furrowed, and Naruto sees that look that he's so familiar with. It was only a matter of time, really. He should have known better.

Except... except she's not looking at  _him_  with that face.

She's looking at the  _matron_.

"It sounds like he hasn't eaten yet," she says sharply. "It's already almost noon."

The matron blinks, taken aback. "He was caught stealing food this morning," she explains.

The woman's eyes narrow. She looks back at Naruto, and she smiles at him. "When was the last time you had some food?" she asks. Her voice is soft, soothing.

Naruto doesn't want to answer her, though. The matron looks unhappy, her mouth pressed in a thin line, and Naruto just knows that he'll get in trouble. He keeps his head down, and he starts drawing again, unwilling to say anything.

He startles when a candy bar is placed in front of him. He looks up, and the woman is still smiling at him, not at all upset by his silence, and she holds out the bar of chocolate.

His stomach growls again, and Naruto knows he shouldn't, he knows he'll just get in trouble again, but he's so  _hungry_. His hand shakily inches towards it.

"You'll spoil his lunch," the matron says waspishly.

His hand drops.

"Something tells me you wouldn't have given it to him anyways," the woman bites back.

Naruto's never heard anyone talk to the matron this way, and he stares at the woman in open wonder.

"I think it's time you've left, Potta-san," the matron snaps.

The woman gently presses the candy bar into Naruto's hand before she stands. The matron isn't a tall woman compared to other adults, and yet she towers over the woman, her fierce expression enough to make Naruto wilt.

"If I walk out of here," the woman says calmly, "it's to go straight to the Hokage about your  _gross mistreatment_  of this boy."

The matron rears back, one hand reaching up to grasp her chest. "I have given that de—boy—far more than he deserves!" She sounds offended, angry. "He has clothes on his back, a roof over his head, he—"

"You have neglected him," the woman interrupts bitingly. She takes a step forward, threatening, and the matron actually stumbles back in surprise. "You provide him with the bare essentials, you treat him inadequately, and you call it  _kindness_. Let me tell you something,  _Hotaru-san_ ; you won't be doing it anymore."

That seems to take the wind out of the matron's sails. She looks baffled, unsure of this turn of events. "Excuse me?"

But the woman doesn't answer her. Instead, she turns to Naruto again. The candy bar is still in his hand, broken under the force of his shaky hand. She kneels in front of Naruto, and she smiles at him.

"What's your name?" she asks softly.

Naruto swallows thickly. He glances from the matron, whose mouth is still open in shock, to the woman. A few moments pass, and when there's no further protest, he mumbles, "Uzumaki Naruto."

"I'm Potta Hari," the woman says, extending a hand out.

Naruto stares at it, but then his own is reaching out. Hari shakes his hand once. "Hi," he says unsurely.

Hari doesn't mind. Her smile gets bigger, and it's still nice and warm and directed at him, and he finds himself relaxing a bit, not as tense as before.

"Naruto," Hari says quietly, "do you want to come home with me?"

Naruto isn't the only one that gasps. "Me?" he whispers, blinking in disbelief.

Hari nods. " _You_ ," she says. "I want to give you a home. Away from... from all of this. Is that okay with you?"

Naruto swallows thickly. His eyes burn, and he bites down on his lower lip, hard, just to make sure he's not still sleeping. There's a tinge of copper in his mouth, and Hari is still there, so he's awake. He's awake, and this is really happening.

Hari doesn't push him to make a decision. She just stays there, kneeling in front of him, waiting patiently.

He glances around the main room again, at the other kids who are as disbelieving as him but also angry because they're not getting any attention, at the matron who looks bewildered and disgusted and also oddly hopeful, at the other workers who look furious at Hari.

They're looking at  _her_... the way they look at  _him_...

"They'll be mean to you," he says sadly, and he shakes his head, lowering it to stare at his drawing. "I can't..."

But Hari puts her hand under his chin, and she gently tilts it so he faces her. Her smile is still soft, and she tells him, "That speaks badly about  _them_."

"But..."

Her finger brushes against his cheek, just so, and it takes everything in him not to lean into that soft touch, not to melt against her sweet skin. "If you really want to stay, I won't force you to come with me," she says. She pulls away a little, and Naruto almost grabs onto her hand to stop her, doesn't really want her to leave quite yet, but then she pokes his nose. " _But_... I think you don't want to be here, and to tell you the truth, I don't want you to be here either. What I want is for you to be happy. And I think I can make you very happy living with me."

Naruto's lower lip wobbles, but he stares at Hari, and he wants more than anything to believe her.

She doesn't look like she's trying to trick him.

Would it... be so bad to be around someone who wants him there?

"...you want me?" he whispers.

Hari beams, and Naruto feels something in his chest settle into place. "I do," she whispers back.

He stares at her, dumbfounded, but then he puts aside his drawing and he shakily raises his hands. He doesn't say anything else, but he doesn't need to.

Hari picks him up in her arms, and he clings to her. Her hair tickles his nose. He catches sight of the worker's faces, and he buries his face in her neck, doesn't want to see those looks anymore.

"You're... adopting the de— _boy_?"

"Get me the papers," Hari says, her voice brooking no argument. Her hand strokes his back, and Naruto marvels at how nice it feels.

Naruto loses track of time after that. The orphanage workers seem to scramble to give Hari papers. She signs them with a flourish, never putting him down.

"Don't bring him back if you change your mind," the matron demands. She takes the signed papers and stuffs them in her robes, hoards them like it's the most precious thing she has, and her words shouldn't hurt,  _they really shouldn't_ , but Naruto can't help the hot tears that leak out of the corners of his eyes.

"Naruto won't be back here ever again," Hari says serenely. "He deserves much more than the subpar care you've been giving him. I don't know what you think a four-year-old could possibly do, but I do know that your ill treatment of him speaks volumes about your unsavory character. Why you're allowed to care for other children with such a terrible disposition is beyond me. One day, maybe even soon, you will pay for it. And when that day comes, I want you to know that I was behind it entirely."

Naruto squeezes her a little tighter, savoring this new feeling of someone actually touching him. Someone actually wanting him. It's wonderful.

He doesn't look up, but he knows that eyes follow them as Hari walks away. The matron and the orphanage workers splutter, enraged and offended, but Naruto keeps his head down until he feels the warm breeze ruffle his hair.

His stomach gives another pitiful grumble.

"We should get you something to eat," Hari muses. "What's your favorite food?"

Naruto shrugs.

Hari lets out a small laugh. "Tough customer," she says. "Well, what do you  _not_  like to eat?"

Naruto pulls away a little, looks at her hesitantly. "Vegetables," he says quietly. They're always too crunchy, and sometimes they smell funny.

Hari smiles at him. "Oh, you don't? But how will you get big and strong if you don't eat your vegetables?" she teases him. He pouts, and she pokes his nose again. "You know what? I think I know what we're going to eat. Do you want to walk there?"

Naruto glances at the ground, and then looks back at her. He can walk, of course, it's just... it's so nice, being held by someone. He's seen other kids being carried by their parents, and he's always felt sad and jealous because he doesn't have a mom or dad to do that for him.

And now he has... well, he doesn't exactly know what to call her.

Hari adjusts him so that he's propped on her hip. "So, I bet you're pretty confused about everything that's going on, aren't you?"

Naruto nods his head. "Yes."

She smiles sadly. "Someone told me that the adults at the orphanage weren't treating you very nicely, or fairly. They wanted me to take you away because they couldn't do it themselves."

Naruto cocks his head a little, pondering this. This doesn't make any sense. He doesn't know anybody that cares about what happens to him. And if somebody does care... "Where were they?"

Hari lets out a small sigh. "I can't say," she tells him.

Naruto frowns. "Did you make a promise?"

"Something like that," Hari says. "And it's important that I need to keep it. But I can make you a promise, too. When you're older, I'll be able to tell you."

Naruto doesn't know what to say to that, so he stays quiet. There are quite a few villagers walking about, openly staring at the two of them as they walk down the street. Hari doesn't seem to notice, just keeps a strong grip on Naruto and starts to chatter aimlessly.

Her voice is nice, he thinks, and he feels a frisson of warmth curl in his belly and travel up his chest. His throat feels tight, almost too tight to even speak, and he isn't really sure why. So much has happened today, all of it confusing, and before he even knows it, he's sniffling, hot tears running down his cheeks.

He reaches up and angrily brushes them away.

He's done with crying.

"There's a lot going on right now," Hari says softly. "And I know it's pretty confusing. I know that we're strangers right now, and you don't know if you can trust me, and that's fine. Because I'm going to earn your trust, okay?"

He sniffles a little, but he nods his head jerkily. "What do I call you?" he mumbles.

"You can call me Hari-oba-chan for now. Does that work?"

Naruto squints his eyes as he studies her face. "But you're not that old!" he exclaims.

Hari snorts in laughter, as if he said something funny, but she doesn't look or sound mean, so he doesn't say anything. "Hari-onee-chan?" she suggests.

Naruto mouths it, likes the way the word tastes on his tongue. He nods his head. "Hari-onee-chan," he says softly, happily.

She beams at him, and then she ruffles his hair.

He savors the feeling this time, leans into it.

He's going to like having an onee-chan, he just knows it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning, this story isn't going to be updated with the same frequency as _ripped at every edge_. It won't be abandoned, just worked on at a slower pace. I know that Naruto is a little out of character right now, but that will not be for long. He's had a long, confusing day with so many big changes that he needs a little time to bounce back.
> 
> That all being said, I do hope you liked the chapter.


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